


Cauchemar

by mtac_archivist



Category: NCIS
Genre: Gen, Not Episode Related, Not a Crossover, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-24
Updated: 2007-10-24
Packaged: 2019-03-02 05:12:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13311240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mtac_archivist/pseuds/mtac_archivist
Summary: He is only crazy if he pretends he's not.





	Cauchemar

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Jessi, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [ MTAC](https://fanlore.org/wiki/MTAC), an archive of NCIS fanfiction which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after August 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator (and this work is still attached to the archivist account), please contact me using the e-mail address on [ the MTAC collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/mtac/profile)

  
Author's notes: I wrote this story a long time ago. In fact, it was my first story. With the NCIS fanfic archive down I decided to post it somewhere new.  


* * *

His eyes snap open in response to some unknown sound, and he instantly picks up on two things. Two extremely odd things. For one, he is in a canopy bed. The canopy bed. And it is huge around him, which can only mean one thing. He is seven years old again and the noise he heard must be… 

His eyes travel slowly to the end of the bed. Sitting at his feet, looking as carefree and beautiful as he remembers her in his dreams, is his mother. She stands and moves forward, her smile growing as she approaches his pillow, and he wills the dream not to end. He would give anything at this moment for her lips pressed against his forehead, for one more moment with her. But then she sits back down by his side, and looks away, towards the door.

He reaches up tentatively, hand resting on her shoulder, begging silently for her attention, for anything. To see her face again. But when she finally looks back at him all he sees is blood red lips and glistening fangs smiling at him out of the darkness…

He wakes with an extremely undignified yelp, hands thrown up in front of his face to protect him from…what? He isn’t sure, now. A vampire? His mother? His mother the vampire? _I am an idiot._ That thought makes him feel better. He is only crazy if he pretends he’s not. A movie. That will make it go away. Hitchcock. Perfect. _Rear Window_ , perhaps. Or maybe _The Lady Vanishes_. No, even better. _Spellbound_. With that weird dream sequence that is even more bizarre than his own. That will restore his sanity. 

If only for a little while.


End file.
